Fusion Discovery
by John Cribati
Summary: Doug knew about Stevonnie. He's seen them around the house and such. But when they come to him for advice, he finds that has his work cut out for him.


So. This comes from. A lot of places. Mostly it's the whole "I grew up with my grandmother and thus have had a hand in raising every family member that's at least 6 years younger than me and wow those children are legitimate adults now and I'm old" feeling.

Just... Enjoy.

* * *

So. Steven and Connie are a _thing_ now. In Doug's eyes, they'd been a _thing_ since they tried to run away together, but whatever circumstances surrounding Priyanka's joining them on a mission some months back had them decide to make their _thing_ status official.

It was mostly expressed in the little moments. Getting more hands-on with each other, sharing meaningful glances across the table, just being generally more comfortable together (which was saying a lot, to be honest).

They'd definitely been up to... teenager stuff... with each other for a while, but, well, they're teenagers. And while he admits to having had more of a "leave room for Ganesha" attitude when they were in their preteens, Connie is intelligent and Steven is understanding, and they're both closer to eighteen than twelve. Whatever they get up to in their time alone, Doug doubts either of them are being pressured.

There were a few... _less small_ moments. One memorable occasion Connie pulled a muscle during sword practice and Steven didn't hesitate to _lick the inside of her thigh_ to heal her. That sort of familiarity indicated that they were _much_ farther along in rounding the bases than he'd thought.

Once he'd seen that, he immediately recruited Priyanka and Greg, and the three adults had managed to corner the two teenagers with that updated "birds and bees" talk Priyanka had been going on about. The standard "we'd prefer if you'd wait, but if you don't please take preventative measures because children are great but tend to require time and attention that you might want to be focusing on other things right now."

And really, that was the end of it. Steven would sometimes sleep over with Connie, Connie would sometimes sleep over with Steven... it became ordinary.

The first time he came across Stevonnie walking about the Maheswaran household, Doug immediately understood what Priyanka meant about grandchildren. He couldn't wait. Well he _could_, but he was still anticipating it. Since then, it's become less and less of a shock to see them around the house. Raiding the fridge, splayed out on the couch watching TV, eating giant tubs of ice cream at times that seemed to coincide with Connie's internal monthly clock... They've been slowly integrating into the background. Interesting, but no longer really out of place.

Until tonight, that is.

He awoke at near-midnight to the sound of grunts and yells. Priyanka was already awake, and staring out the window at the backyard. As he joined her, he got the notion that his life was about to become profoundly complicated.

What he did not expect was to see Stevonnie out in the backyard, at eleven at night, punching and kicking at the air.

He especially didn't expect them to be so... flaily about it.

There's _some_ semblance of form to their movement- probably what they could apply from Connie's sword training- but overall their stance is shoddy and their attacks badly telegraphed.

Priyanka looks concerned. "Stevonnie is usually a lot more relaxed than this, but over the past few weeks they've been so... antsy and restless."

"They really need help," Doug agrees. "Their form is atrocious."

Priyanka glares at him.

"And also it's chilly out?"

He was sent down to go talk to them.

Something about priorities.

* * *

"Hey there!" Doug calls over to Stevonnie.

Distracted from their weird, floaty leaping kick, Stevonnie crashes to the ground in a heap.

"Hey dad! Uh... Doug-Dad?"

They roll over and kip up, dusting off their pajamas- a crop-top that vaguely resembles Connie's frilly blue nightgown, alongside a pink plaid pajama set that he often saw Steven in.

"You're up late. You doing okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine!" Stevonnie responds. Far too quickly, they add "And Steven and Connie are fine. Just. A lot of energy to burn off?"

"Nervous energy?" Doug tries not to look too critical of their demeanor, but given how they fidget under his gaze, he figures he's done a poor job of it.

"Something like that." Are they blushing?

Time for a subject change, then. "So who taught you how to fight?"

"Amethyst, mostly. Though I suppose 'taught' is a strong word. Jasper taught Steven some grappling, and after that I'm kind of just doing sword stuff without... a sword."

"Thought as much. Well, it looks like it's up to your old man to show you how it's done."

Stevonnie snorts. "Really?" They sound caught between laughter and admiration.

Doug pretends to be affronted. "Hey now, you don't spend decades security guarding without learning your way around a tussle or two."

Connie's 'being polite and trying not to laugh' face fits them quite well.

"Don't believe me? Hit me."

They mull it over for a bit. "Well, we can always heal you after."

He has about a quarter of a second to reconsider his request. Then he's leaning out of the way of a left hook.

Muscle memory takes over after that. He only really learned the fundamentals of baguazhang, but sometimes that's all a person needs.

They overbalance and send themselves spinning, and he continues with his momentum, taking a series of swift, precise steps that put him on their right side.

He firmly but painlessly raps them on the cheek with a palm strike.

"So did Garnet actually teach you how to throw a punch, or were you just mimicking her?"

They try again, throwing out a few more wild-looking swings- definitely Garnet-like in spirit, if not in form- and he waits for them to overextend before slipping into their guard and tapping their nose with the back of his fist.

"You know I can take a hit, right?" They mutter

"Yeah, but you can also bench a car. If we decide to hit any harder than 'love tap' you can put me in the hospital."

It takes a few more similar exchanges before it becomes clear that something is up. Between the muttering to themself, their sloppy footwork (the one thing that should be consistent given their training in swordplay), and their overall frustration, he could tell they were out of sync (with themself? With each other?).

"You're clearly off your game tonight," he says. "You want to talk about it?"

"No." | "... Actually, maybe we should?" | "What? No! We can't talk about this with _him_!" | "Why not?" | "He's my dad!" | "Aren't we supposed to talk to our parents about this kind of stuff?" | "Yes, but-" | "Who else is there? Your mother? The Gems?" |"What about Dad Universe?" | "Do you think he has the kind of experience that could help with this?" | "... We can ask Lars?"| "..."| "Yeah, I don't know what I was saying there either."

Doug watches the discussion with fascination, at first trying to follow who was saying what, but then wondering what was even being said.

"Are you finished?" He asks.

"Yeah." They look remarkably uncomfortable. "Remember when you said that if Connie needed to, you'd be around for candid, frank, and entirely non-judgmental talks on the subject of... intercourse?"

Oh. _Oh_.

"Oh. Well, would you prefer to talk inside?"

They would.

Doug remembers hearing about the concept of the "walk of shame" back in his college days. This scenario was nothing like that, but he thinks he can appreciate the sentiment.

He follows Stevonnie up into Connie's room, where they sit cross-legged on the carpet. They make eye contact with him for a fleeting second, and though he knows his knees will punish him for it later, he kneels across from them.

"So what's up?"

"Steven and Connie are having intimacy issues."

That was not a sentence he'd ever thought he was going to hear.

"Wuh?" He responds, intelligently. "Uh... I mean, wuh...t seems to be the problem?"

"I keep showing up." He must look confused, because they sigh and, with a blush, continue with, "It, uh, takes two to tango."

Oh. "Oh. _Oh_."

"Yeah. And it's not that I don't like to be here. But they've been trying for weeks and whenever they get close here I am, just-" they make a pop sound with their mouth- "and now everyone is frustrated and I'm just, sort of aimless out here. Like, I'm super aware of my body and my skin is all sensitive and throbbing and there are all these... parts that I usually don't notice and all these feelings that I don't know what to do with and just... UGH!"

They flop backward dramatically and sigh.

Doug considers his response.

Then he considers it again.

Then he really, _really_ thinks about it.

"I may have a... suggestion?"

"Huh?"

"What with this whole thing being candid, frank, and non-judgmental. I am offering a potential solution to this whole... thing that you may want to consider."

"I'm listening."

Doug takes a deep breath, that's more like a sigh. "Okay. So, from what I understand, fusion often involves some sort of statement of purpose. A goal that the relationship is headed towards."

"Yes."

"And Connie and Steven were in the middle of... let's say, an amorous encounter when you, uh, showed up."

They nod.

"Okay, so what if your current directive is to finish what they started?"

"What!?"

"I know, I know!" Doug raises his hands in a defensive 'shushing' kind of motion. "Fusion isn't necessarily sex, it's an actualized metaphor for the relationship you two have, and so on and so forth. But. It isn't necessarily _not_ sex either. And maybe it can be, for this occasion."

"But... there's only one of me."

"Yes, it takes two to tango, but you can dance the Macarena by yourself."

"... I don't follow."

"You just... y'know."

Stevonnie offers a blank stare.

Doug sputters. "C- come on. You _know_, right?"

Their brow furrows, and they look side-to-side in bemusement.

"S- Steven must have..." he makes the (in)appropriate demonstrative motion with his hand, "at some point, right?"

"Used... a water gun?" Stevonnie offers.

He stares into their eyes. Glares, unblinking, for thirty seconds. They don't budge.

There is just. No way, right?

"Look, I get it. Talking about this is tough and remarkably uncomfortable. But promise me, _right now_, that you are in fact being one hundred percent genuine, and that neither of you have masturbated before."

They squirm, just a bit. "Connie's... heard about it. From kids at school and camp. But she's never really put any effort into doing it. And Steven has never heard that word but he's been, uh... filled in."

Doug drops his head into both waiting palms with an audible _slap_. Of course. Connie's internet browsing had been strictly monitored up until she was about... what, 15? And High school health classes likely don't go too in-depth into the topic of self-gratification. Steven, he should have realized, is simply too pure a soul.

"Well, that's the solution. Hypothetically, anyway. I'll go ahead and... leave you to it."

His knees click and creak as he gets up, and he shuffles towards the door as fast as they'll allow him. Before he leaves, though, a thought occurs to him, and he turns to them.

"Oh! You might need to get your hands on some tissue. Or lay a towel out."

Stevonnie cringes. "Thanks, Dad."

"Also you might want to look into how soundproof Steven's bubble is because Priyanka can be quite a screamer-"

A flying teddy bear collides with his head, knocking his glasses off.

"_Thanks_. _Dad_."

"Yeah, I deserved that one."

* * *

Priyanka is on his case the second he steps into the door. "How did it go?"

In lieu of an answer, he throws himself facedown onto the bed.

"That bad?"

"I came very close to digging out the liquor. The hard stuff."

"What was the problem?"

"Really don't want to explain."

"Don't be such a baby." She shoves him playfully. "It couldn't have been that-"

"_Ooh_!"

The moan catches her off guard. Doug sticks his head up.

"_Huh. There, right there. That's- Oh_!"

The slightly muffled voice is coming from the wall they share with Connie's room.

"Is that... Are they...?"

Doug gets up and bangs his fist against the wall. Stevonnie yelps, and there's a crash of a body.

"Soundproofing!" He reminds them.

"_Oh. Right_."

Silence.

"Doug... What are they-"

"Not talking about it. Just know that those grandchildren are probably going to take longer than we thought."

Priyanka goes to be utterly bemused.

* * *

The next morning, Steven needs to be dragged down the stairs to breakfast.

Literally. Connie has to hold on to his pant leg because he cannot come down from the ceiling.

Doug had never really gotten the rundown on all of Steven's Gem abilities (he kind of gave up around "animates plant life with his bodily fluids"), but he could make an educated guess.

He can't keep the snicker out of his voice. "So he floats when he's happy, huh?"

"_Dad_!"

He's happy that Steven is weightless at the moment, because the speed with which Connie throws her boyfriend at her father would have put the latter in the hospital otherwise.

-MANY MONTHS LATER-

"Nice office you got here."

Doug looks up from tallying up next month's budget. It's Steven. Just Steven.

"It's Priyanka's actually," he responds.

The teenager pulls up the little chair and sits on the opposite side of the desk. He isn't smiling, but he has an air of seriousness, like he's playing the role of a mafia gangster.

"So... Paperwork, huh?"

"Do you need something?" Doug asks.

"Just to talk to you. Y'know, candidly. Frankly. In a non-judgmental sort of way."

Oh. "Oh. _Oh_."

"Yeah."

Doug gathers the papers together and sets them aside.

"Shoot."

Steven takes a deep breath. "I want to know how to please a woman."

Doug chokes on air. Steven is still stone-faced. Steven's expression has not changed.

_Well then. It's time._

"On the bookshelf in the living room," Doug instructs, "there's a large purple book with pink lotus flowers on the cover and spine. Bring it to the kitchen."

Steven leaves the room. Doug opens a drawer in the desk, pulls up the false bottom and fishes out a key.

He takes the key downstairs and opens a small music box on the mantle over the fireplace, inside of which is another key.

That key, he takes to the cupboard underneath the stairs, to open a hidden door, behind which is a briefcase.

He gets up and goes to the kitchen cabinet, where he takes two small glasses and fills them with ice.

Steven arrives then, with the designated book in tow.

"Sit." Doug opens the briefcase with the three-digit combination, and from within produces three thick glass bottles, placing them in line out on the table.

"Are you a cognac, tequila, or whiskey kind of guy?"

"I'm not 21," Steven responds.

"You're 17 and your Gem is more than 7,000 last I checked. Take the average."

Steven doesn't budge.

Doug sighs. "And it's technically not illegal so long as you don't leave the house."

Steven picks the Tequila. Doug pours the liquor out, knocks his own glass back in one gulp, and fills it again.

"Alright. I'm ready."

The book Steven has is titled _Anatomy & Physiology_, 5th Edition. It was Priyanka's in medical school. Connie had eventually dug it out and started perusing it, leading to that first "birds and the bees" talk. Now? It seems as though things have come full circle.

"The chapter on the Reproductive system. We'll be using the diagram on page 633."

Steven finishes three drinks before the explanation is through.


End file.
